It was the woman: soft whispering cloudlets, soft whispering vapour, whispering and vanishing. They were like the cherubs of the anecdote, who had-- morally, at any rate--nothing to whack! I remember feeling with Miles in especial as if he had had, as it were, no history. For instance, why may not any portion of a new confederacy a year or two hence arbitrarily secede again, precisely as portions of the present Union now claim to secede from it? All who cherish disunion sentiments are now being educated to the exact temper of doing this. Says I was cut out for that.
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